Its Just Another Day at the Park

SUDDENLY stars surrounded the sound space and surprised the submissive listener. Guns were drawn and battle plans were etched in dirt. Its unknown who will come out victorious but it seems that someone must. The ravenous squirrels in the park on Oregon Ave. know no boundaries- jumping from tree to tree and onto benches and into trash cans searching for food and chasing each other. On some benches laid seemingly homeless men and a few women as well. Beer cans of the malt liquor variety filled the trash cans.

KNOWING the time of day and how the game gets played Hugh knew nothing new ever happens. Its just another day at the park. Its always the same sad songs with grey clouds serving as the time keeper. Old men in old man sunglasses and bored workers and then his self all wasting life, all with nothing better to spend life on. He wasn’t afraid of being alone or not having a home. He just dreaded living. Step by step, the same damn sad songs plodded along- this time with sunshine playing rhythm guitar and stars (hidden) hitting tambourines. Damn ugly crying babies.

IF for no other reason, Hugh knew that he needed to get clean because he was tired. Tired of the ride, he thought to himself, as he sat on a park bench. It bored him- only sober life bored him more and therein laid the predicament. Still, he had to at least try. It works if you work it! Assholes, he thought. Testifying about nothing… Drunk on group hysteria… Its impossible to tread even ground. There’s always more space and more meaningless places to create voids and then attempt to fill them. Yip-yapping passersby… ITT Technical Institute, Bensalem, Pa advertisement on the side of a bus… Hugh thought further back and remembered a time when he heard a man once say into a cell phone, “I can’t use a cell phone in here- this is going to have to be quick.” Let’s suffice all this to say that Hugh’s life was a meal which had been inadvertently prepared with way too much salt and rendered inedible.